Janna, Little Pieces of Chaos
by Hunyo de Mayo
Summary: Odd and spontaneous, are the words that comes to mind when people describe Janna. But, are they right? Yes. Yes they are. To Marco, however, well, he pretty much agrees. Even so, she likes to play a song with him. A song they knew all too well. Her harmony with his melody of confusion. But little pieces of chaos threatened to change him, threaten that very song she loves to play.


She clambered up to the side of the house, where she felt familiar and inviting. Then to the second story window and through to the room so safe and warm. Where she could easily rest, If only the room was hers.

Janna entered the room as she did so many times before, many still without the owner's knowledge. Curiously, she had been doing it a lot more recently. Though, she never really bothered wondering why. But for this particular instance, it wasn't exactly her idea.

She took a moment to really observe the room for the first time in a long while. It was a typical boy's room. His cupboards and bed were nothing special. His wallet placed on its rightful place on top of the dresser. With knickknacks, and posters of this boy's specific interests decorated through out with purpose, orderly and neat. Much like the boy himself. Tending to the side of order. Made him predictable, conventional, safe. The safe kid, they used to call him.

Before, when she was here, she would disrupt that once precious order. Even the subtlest of changes, he would have noticed. Even better, when she took anything out of their rightful place and stuff it somewhere it shouldn't be, like his locker or bag. The doubt he must have felt wondering whether or not the objects were actually moved, Paranoid that someone else might have intrude upon the sanctity of the room, Shattering his perception of what is and what is not. The shock, horror, confusion caused by no one else but her. She wished she could hear it. But at least, she could imagine. Oh, could she imagine.

 _Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard  
_ _Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;_

But recently, things have change. A few singes appeared on the walls and on his bed sheets. A bunch of unnatural cracks formed in the ceiling and floor as if they were slammed repeatedly. Little pieces of chaos strung about the once orderly room. Little pieces he started to ignore. And as more and more of these little pieces pile up, the more those melodies dwindled.

She laid on the bed waiting for the owner to arrive. But would he had reacted as she wanted? To be predictable as he once was? Or has things changed too much? Changed him too much? The items scattered around the floor had caught her attention. She had no hand in placing them there. Another one of those little pieces of chaos. Though those items were neither his, nor his parents nor were they even her own.

"Star! Janna's here!"

A shadowed figure burst out through the doorway. No shock, no horror, no confusion. Only certainty. The certainty that her intrusion was just how things ought to be. Far from the safe kid she once knew. Whose sanctity of the room, she had corrupted in front of him. Or maybe she was just another little piece of chaos. The little pieces he started to ignore. How she wished that certainty was only a mask. Whose voice so quiet, it can't dishearten her.

 _How is it, Shadows! that I knew ye not?  
_ _How came ye muffled in so hush a mask?_

"Nice, to see you too, Marco." Janna replied as she sat up to greet the figure.

"Janna, you could have used the front door. Normally, people go through it because it's so much easier. Try it sometimes." Marco said. He flicked open the lights to his room. Finally, showing the figure in full. Although in light, still she could hardly recognize him.

"Normally, yeah, but since when have I done things normally?"

Or that's how people saw her. Janna the odd, Janna the spontaneous. It made them feel as though she's dangerous. Something to avoid. Maybe, maybe not. But Marco? He didn't think of her as dangerous. Even when she plucks to play her harmony, every time he was made to play his sweet melody.

Marco Diaz. Marco Ubaldo Diaz. Age 14. Whose favorite colors of red, plum and Persian blue. The once orderly, predictable, safe. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. Wearing his favorite red hoodie, a bit singed and torn, not unlike his room. He must have got them from his recent adventures with Star.

"Marco!" Star shouted from somewhere, far beyond the door. "Can you ask Janna to wait for a bit longer? I'm looking for something really important for tomorrow!"

Star. Star Butterfly. The cheery blond Mewni princess from another dimension who started living under the Diaz's household. Janna's newest friend who probably inadvertently changed her life and many others. Especially Marco's. Though, she couldn't complain. Their little song was getting dull anyways. She wanted a challenge. Now a days, it takes a little more effort to see the reaction she wanted from him.

"You know, Marco. By this time tomorrow, we'll sleep in the same room together. Might as well start getting use to it." Janna said as she patted the mattress.

No response. Just a furrowed look he's been holding for sometime. Probably frustrated that Star hasn't come up and took her away yet. It didn't matter though. She has more ways to play his tune. She just needed another harmony.

"Speaking of which," she continued. "could I borrow a few bucks? Star and I want to buy something special for the sleepover."

Next, he would ask what it was or what it's for or how much. Then she-

"You have my wallet, don't you?" He replied.

"I won't be asking if I did. Plus, that's too passé for me now."

And predictable. But she wasn't the predictable one. She was the spontaneous, odd one. Then again, Marco wasn't as predictable as she'd hope. He then began to approach the bed. To approach her. Why was he coming? She didn't want this. He was getting a little too close. A little too bold. A little too certain. Certain that she was wrong. She started to hate this. He reached out to dig around the pockets on her blouse and produced his wallet. A magical wallet of Prussian blue that unlocks with his thumbprint.

"So, should I open it or you?" Marco asked.

She's annoyed how quickly he became comfortable with that fact. She had once opened his brand new wallet in front of him. And as a final play, she revealed that she knew all of his sensitive information. Nothing was sacred, his order was gone. His screams of frustration and shock were so succulent. A fine piece to their song. It was too enticing a taught to hear again.

But at this moment, he was still holding that furrowed look. Maybe this time, it's of disappointment. Disappointment for how she's been playing her part. Or smugness in his certainty, that she became the predictable one. Oh, she wished it were a mask. Only so she could rip it of. And reveal the befuddled boy she once knew.

"Whatever gets the cash faster." Janna shrugged forcing a smile to crawl up her face, hiding her frustration. A mask of her own. She hadn't notice that she took the wallet. It must have been out of habit. Had she became so predictable? No, she can't be. But the look on his face said otherwise. She had to press on. She can still control rhythm of his melody. She'll get what she wanted out of him. She just needed find the right accompaniment.

"So, excited for tomorrow?" Janna asked as Marco began fidgeting the locks off his wallet. "Jackie already rsvp'd. She said she's coming to the sleepover."

"Wait, what!?"

There it was. Her opportunity. Her moment. His blood that soar to his cheeks. Showing his shock so tantalizing. The flight of his confusion that sang with such sweet melody.

 _That thou, light-wingèd Dryad of the trees,  
_ _In some melodious plot  
_ _Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,  
_ _Singest of summer in full-throated ease._

She needed to pounce. Hammer it in. She needed to play her harmony.

She stood with authority. And he stepped back. Predictably so. She had ripped off that mask of confidence and certainty. And exposed the safe Marco Diaz underneath. Whose vision of order had blurred and gone.

She delicately reclaimed the wallet off his hands as a trophy of sorts. And slowly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as a sly gesture of friendship. She wanted to get close. Close enough to bask in the confusion she just laid. She could just end it here. Say her goodbyes and let him plot and wonder. ' _He and Jackie under the same roof?'_ He would dance about just to ponder the possibility. ' _What will he do!? What will he do?'_ Panicking and scrambling for any scraps of his precious order. The sweet melodies unheard. But maybe she could cause more? A pleasure she needed satiated.

"I know you like her. I've got all of your sensitive information, Marco." She whispered and held up his wallet as a reminder, making sure it was in clear view.

She could feel it. The confusion, befuddlement that's rising to the surface. Maybe a little bit more? A little bit more before that explosion. His screams and release of frustration. So much like that time she opened his wallet in front of him.

"So what?" Marco replied. "I have a crush. Big deal." He jerked her arm off his shoulder and grabbed his wallet back in one quick motion. "Look, I have stuff to prepare for so just wait here. I'll go get Star."

Was that it? Had she played the wrong accompaniment. No, she can't. She's Janna! The odd to his normal! The dangerous to his safe! The chaos to his order? Like the little pieces that strung about the room. The ones he ignores? No! she's not just a singe on the wall or cracks on the floor. He can't just ignore her! She needs a plan, She needed another play. She needed-

"Help! I could help you!?" Janna blurted out, clutching on to his hoodie as he started to walk away. What was she thinking? Did she just lost her composure back then? Did he notice. No. No, he didn't. She forced a smile. Making it as sly as she can. Re-wear her mask that hid her frustration. She's not letting go of the rhythm. She's in control. She's in control. She's always in control.

"Help?" Marco jumped. "Help how?"

She hadn't plan for this. Though, where would the fun be without surprises. But bargaining? She hadn't played with that in a while. How would she help? Well, it wouldn't be hard. Knowing Jackie actually had a fondness for Marco. She's actually surprised the two hadn't got together a lot sooner. It might be fun to set up the happy couple, to think what they could share with each other.

 _'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,  
_ _But being too happy in thine happiness,_

"Believe it or not, I am a girl. And I know a thing or two about how girls think. Plus, Jackie's my friend. You got an insider working for you now."

"So, insider? What's your pitch."

"Tell me. Why haven't you asked her out yet?" Janna asked

He paced back and forth contemplating on what she said. But his confusion was of a different song. Not played against her harmony. It was as though he had heard it before from someone else. Or maybe it was something he already asked himself. But for now, seemingly so, he muttered something under his breath.

"Really, Dude?" Janna smirked.

"Wait, you heard me!?"

"You actually said something?"

"Janna! Are you helping me or not!?" Marco yelled, his frustration and embarrassment laid bare.

That song, she knew all too well.

"I am." She said calmly. "Okay. First rule is you have to relax, play it cool. It won't help anybody if you're a screaming fit. And it's cliché and all, but it would be a lot easier if you just be yourself."

"Right. Right. Be Cool. Be myself. The misunderstood bad boy." Marco said as he slicked his hair back and feigning confidence.

Cute but, no, not even close. Jackie would have been in a giggling fit. She guessed, her game plan now was to play cupid. Still she didn't know anything about love. And hearing her other friends talking about their dates didn't help much but annoy her. For all she knew, love is just a Kiss and Tell.

 _And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up  
_ _For idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle;  
_ _A thing of soft misnomers, so divine_

Although,it might be nice. To actually know what love is. Or at least, feel what people think love is. But all she knew is what others knew. And what others knew was...

"Say, Have you ever kissed someone before?" She asked.

"What!? why'd you ask?"

Why did she ask? A slip of the tongue? A simple mistake? Didn't matter. A minor mishap. Maybe she could still recover. She should recover.

"You know what they say." She continued. "A girl can learn a lot about a relationship from the first kiss."

What was she doing? What was she suggesting? No, she got this. She's in control.

"Really? Whoa, whoa wha-what are you saying?" Marco stuttered. "No!? That? What? How would I know if I did it right?"

The melody of his confusion. Maybe this was her chance. Reclaim the ground she had lost? She needed to press on.

"You could practice?" She suggested.

"What!"

What indeed!? No, there's no room for doubt. She could still make it. Just have a plan and execute it. She's in control. She's in control. She's always in control.

"Practice on me." She apparently said. "It doesn't count if it's just practice."

He fidgeted around, paced back and forth. Contemplating her proposal. The insanity, he must be enduring. She should be enjoying this.

But there's a pressing concern she needed to be dealt. She was sure that he'd say no. But what if he didn't? No, he's the predictable one, remember? He's predictable, conventional, safe. The safe kid. But he wasn't before, was he? The shadow figure with little pieces of chaos strung about. The Marco that approached her. The bold. The certain. Certain that she was wrong, wrong about the wallet. About this? She's not wrong. Not this time. That certainty was only a mask. A masked she had already ripped. She just needs to calm down.

"Relax Marco, imagine if you acted this way in-front of Jackie. Over a simple kiss? It's only weird if you make it weird. But hey, that's your call. "

Point of no return. She didn't know how but somehow she painted herself in a dangerous corner. He will back off. And start panicking about what should and should not be, spending all this time wondering what could go wrong, confused whether or not he should've consider about what she said. Then when the time came, he would have realized that all his worrying was for nothing. All because Janna said something weird.

Will he back off though? A tiny part of her, maybe in her deepest subconscious, the one who suggested it in the first place, thought that if he rejected her proposal, he's rejecting her? No, this was only a song and dance. A song she plays with him. Their song. No one ever gets terribly hurt over a simple song. But, still?

A smile cracked upon her lips. Just like those that strung about his floor and ceiling. She wondered if this was what it felt like to play his melodies. To not know what would happen? To cling on to something certain. All because of opposing possibilities? The melody of confusion.

Though, she wondered if Janna the spontaneous, Janna the odd, the Janna that was thought to be dangerous, was only a mask. And if she would remove it, what it would be like? To be as predictable, conventional, safe as Marco. Maybe, he would give her some of his order, his predictability. That in someway she could absorb it and feel the warmth emanate within. And hold her in his safety. And maybe if he did, she wouldn't lose him. To the little pieces of chaos that changed him. And in that, could they still play their song? It was a dumb thought.

 _Fools! if some passions high have warm'd the world,  
_ _If Queens and Soldiers have play'd deep for hearts,  
_ _It is no reason why such agonies  
_ _Should be more common than the growth of weeds._

But, as she feared or hoped, he approached her once again. Did she want this? He came in a little too close. A little too bold. Too certain. Did she hate this?

"Fine. Promise this won't be weird." Marco sighed as if at a loss. Probably wanting order, predictability. And botching a first kiss is just too much. A safer bet to practice, than to be bold and take chances. She should have probably anticipated this. Then again maybe she did.

She could use this to her advantage. Deny him that order. Leave him confused. Play their song. So, why didn't she want to?

She guided his arms around her. And stepped forward to be a little bit more intimate until she could feel his heat radiating out. She settled her hand on his umber cheeks, caressing the cute mole he had. He was a bit taller than she remembered. That she had to look up, to see into his deep brown eyes. Piercing her with a hint of sincerity, calmness, acceptance. If only it were true. Let it be true.

"Closer." She whispered.

He leaned forward. So much so that they accidentally bumped noses. And the two shared a chuckle. Shared. Should they share more? The allure was too great. She could feel his breath inches from hers. Beckoning her to move. Maybe just a taste of this bliss. Maybe a little...just to disappear in that moment.

 _O for a beaker full of the warm South,  
_ _Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,  
_ _With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,  
_ _And purple-stained mouth;  
_ _That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,  
_ _And with thee fade away into the forest dim:_

"Okay." He told in secret, enticing her to approach just hear his voice again. "What should I do next?"

"Grab me." Janna answered as she lunges forward to meet her lips against his. His arm coiled around her lower back while another rubbed up to reach her shoulders. Inching her closer and closer until she could feel his warmth engulf her. She rested her arms on his shoulder, grabbing the back of his head, begging him to receive her. He pushes forward accepting her kiss with his. She never knew she needed this. Needed him. The feel of him. The taste. To let go of all control and just ... be.

 _Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!  
_ _O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!  
_ _That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest  
_ _Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,_

She wanted this. She wanted time to stop and freeze them at that moment. She wanted

 _Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,_

Maybe they could have this moment again and again. Maybe they could play a different song. This song. But what would Marco think about this change? Would he feel the same? Did he feel the same? But all of this started because of...Jackie.

What had she done? The waves of guilt crashed down flooding her mind with it's intense pressure. His warmth grew hotter and hotter burning her. His lips drenched in poison choking her. She wanted this? What did she want? She wanted to go back. She wanted to forget. She wanted...

 _My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains  
_ _My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,  
_ _Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains  
_ _One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:_

She jerked back. Not wanting to face him. But wanted the numbness to take her out. Let her escape. But his alluring voice pulled her into this reality. Now, however, in a different melody.

"Did I do something wrong?" Marco asked with sweet sincerity.

No. But she did.

She loosened up her grip and let her fingers roll down pass his shoulder to his chest. Strangely, being this close and his arms around her, she felt safe. A new meaning to his nickname. A little smile found its way on her lips at the thought. She wanted to be there just a little bit longer. Though, her fingers got caught in some tattered parts and a few singes that littered his hoodie. Little pieces of chaos that changed him. Maybe it's not so bad being one of them?

 _Away! away! for I will fly to thee,_

She can't. She can't be too involved. 'Practice on me. It doesn't count if it's just practice.' What was she thinking! Why did he accept!? Because it's Janna. Spontaneous, odd Janna! Janna who was just being a little bit weird. It was just a song. Where no one would get hurt. Especially not Janna! She's always in control. Stupid little Janna!

For now, she just wanted to hide it. Just...

 _Benumb'd my eyes; my pulse grew less and less;  
_ _Pain had no sting, and pleasure's wreath no flower:  
_ _O, why did ye not melt, and leave my sense  
_ _Unhaunted quite of all but—nothingness?_

She looked up at him and wore the mask. Of Janna the spontaneous, the odd. Normally people would be bothered by these things. Normally, yeah, but since when have she done things normally?

"Your mouth was too wide open." Janna said flatly." You're trying to kiss me not eat me. Besides that, you got potential."

"Okay. Right. Wha-what do you mean?" Marco asked in confusion. Such sweet melody. "Okay you say that but how wide is too wide? And is it possible to over shoot it? A-and and-"

"Marco, relax." Janna said, planting her finger on his lips. "First kisses are supposed to be awkward. Worst thing you could do is over think it, and start panicking. Like you're doing now. Remember, play it cool."

"Yeah, cool." Marco exhaled. "Right. I got it."

He didn't. Though, there's a neat visual. What exactly does Marco think is cool? 50 bucks says he'll actually try the bad boy thing. Bonus cash for leather jacket. Or a denim vest. The safe kid Marco Diaz embracing the little pieces of chaos. Now, a rebel without a cause. That would be a change.

But he won't be the only one. The Janna she is now, had shocked her. Scared her. The Janna who shared a kiss with Marco Diaz. The Janna who craved the order, predictability, the safety he had. The Janna who knew that she shouldn't.

But she should be fine with just how the way things are. To let her feelings fade away and cease to be. After all, they can't play their little song otherwise. Both of them would be happier for it.

 _When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,  
_ _Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,  
_ _And think that I may never live to trace  
_ _Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;  
_ _And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,  
_ _That I shall never look upon thee more,  
_ _Never have relish in the faery power  
_ _Of unreflecting love—then on the shore  
_ _Of the wide world I stand alone, and think  
_ "Till love and fame to nothingness do sink." Janna muttered.

"Sorry," Marco apologized. "I didn't catch that."

"It's nothing." She squeezed her arms around him, making sure he was real. And just for this small moment, she could just be.

But a tear through the fabric of space and time came between them and out popped the cheery blond princess with magical scissors at hand.

"Janna Banana!" Star yelled. "I almost forgot about you."

She had grabbed Janna out of Marco's arms just to cut open a new portal where they could hop off to a different dimension. But not before yelling back, "See ya' Marco!" He didn't replied, he couldn't reply. He just stood there as his two friends disappeared through the tear. He'll maybe go off and grab a snack or something.

Janna and Star arrived at their destination. Janna wasn't sure where it was. But she knew that Star knew and that's all she needed to think about right now. But that's why she came to the Diaz's in the first place,wasn't it? To help Star get what she needed for the sleepover tomorrow. Starting with the brownies.

"Star, you're sure about these magic sprinkles?" Janna asked. "I mean, it's your first time baking brownies."

"Oh, you know I am! You got the money from Marco, right?"

No, she didn't. Something else came up. But she had been wrong before. She checked her pockets just to humor the thought. And to her surprise, she pulled out a magical wallet of Prussian blue.

Old habit, she figured. Why, how predictable.

She fumbled to open the locks, bringing out a copy of his thumb print to the scanner, as Star grabbed the cash she needed.

"Yes!" Star shouted. "This is going to be the greatest sleepover EVER!"

"Bright Star, would I were steadfast as thou art-"

"Whoa, Janna. What are you on about?"

"John Keats." Janna replied. "Hunk of a man if I do say so myself!"


End file.
